


you got me doing things that i shouldn't do (but baby i like it)

by explosionshark



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosionshark/pseuds/explosionshark
Summary: Chloe treats Rachel to breakfast. Rachel treats her back.
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	you got me doing things that i shouldn't do (but baby i like it)

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this as a prompt fill for a follower on tumblr! cannot BELIEVE the first and very possibly only thing i'll post to ao3 in 2020 is gonna be life is strange diner smut. why the fuck not! it's been that kind of year!
> 
> title from "yours" by now now

Rachel is all over Chloe from the moment she picks her up. She slides into the truck and right across the bench to drape herself over Chloe in one smooth motion, throwing her arms over Chloe’s shoulder and tilting Chloe’s face towards hers with a coy grin and a whispered, “Good morning.”

“It’s like 2 pm,” Chloe says, for some fucking reason, a few minutes later. She chalks it up to being dazed, literally kissed stupid by Rachel who laughs into her neck and finally slides back into the passenger seat.

“”Whatever,” Rachel waves a careless hand in front of her face. “There’s, like, morning vibes.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Chloe laughs, finally putting the truck in gear and pulling away from the curb.

“It means you’re taking me out for breakfast,” Rachel says twisting in her seat to stretch one long, tanned leg across the bench seat and into Chloe’s lap.

“I am?” Chloe asks, unable to stop herself from dropping one hand from the steering wheel to rub up and down Rachel’s smooth, bare leg.

Rachel grins at Chloe from across the cab, twirling a strand of glossy blonde hair around one finger. “Oh yeah. You can’t wait to take me out to Two Whales. Treat me. Show me off.”

“Two Whales,” Chloe groans, even as she changes lanes to make the necessary turn back to the direction of the diner. “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

She and her mother hadn’t exactly fought this morning, but Chloe and David had traded words and things had been tense when Joyce left for work. She’d been hoping to avoid her for the rest of the day, or however long it took for Joyce to forget about David choking on his coffee in outrage when Chloe called him a basic bitch over toast and jam.

“No, they’re the only ones who have strawberry syrup that doesn’t suck,” Rachel pouts and if there was ever an actual argument to win here, that would have done it.

Crossing the parking lot Rachel winds her arm through Chloe’s and leans up to press a sweet kiss to the curve of Chloe’s jaw, says, “I just love it when you spoil me. Makes me wanna spoil you back,” in that smooth, low voice like honeyed tea **.**

And, okay, if this is what it means to be whipped? To be a total pushover for Rachel Amber? It’s fine. It’s totally worth it.

It’s, as Chloe predicted, a little awkward running into her mom at work but Rachel’s bright greeting and easy charm mellows both of them out. Joyce leaves them in their corner booth without bothering to write their orders down, shaking her head indulgently when Rachel nudges Chloe into the booth before her, sliding in afterwards on the same side. With their backs to the wall and no one across from them but the back of some trucker’s head, it feels a little silly, but Rachel’s thigh pressing against hers in the booth stokes a dopey smile that Chloe tries to hide in a steaming cup of coffee.

Because she’s been like this all day, Chloe doesn’t think much of it when Rachel’s hand drops down to cup Chloe’s knee through her jeans, thumb rubbing soothing circles against its side.

It’s a little embarrassing when she leans in and kisses the spot behind Chloe’s ear, grazes the lobe with her teeth, because her mom is right over there, just behind the counter, thankfully occupied by exchanging words with Gary the line cook and not looking at them. Rachel's breath is hot against her skin and, despite everything, Chloe can feel her nipples start to harden beneath her tank top.

Chloe squirms away a little when Rachel laves her tongue over the shell of Chloe’s ear, unable to contain her awkward giggle at the sensation.

“What?” Rachel laughs too, voice quiet as she leans further into Chloe’s space, undeterred.

“Knock it off,” Chloe says, smushed between Rachel’s body and the diner wall.

“Knock what off?” Rachel asks obnoxiously, sliding her hand up from Chloe’s knee, bare palm splayed across Chloe’s stomach, under her shirt.

“Here you are, girls,” Joyce’s voice interrupts them and Chloe feels herself flush bright red, shooting straight up into her seat, eyes locked on the plate of bacon and eggs Joyce slides in front of her across the formica tabletop.

Rachel, the picture of grace and nonchalance, slips casually back into an upright position with none of Chloe’s panic, smiling lazily at Joyce as if she hadn’t just caught them canoodling in the back booth of the diner where she’s worked for fifteen years. “Thanks, Mama J.”

“You’re welcome, Rachel,” Joyce says. She waits a beat and clears her throat. “And _you’re_ welcome, Chloe.”

“Thanks, mom,” Chloe mumbles around a forkful of eggs, still staring determinedly at the plate of food in front of her.

“Talking with her mouth full,” Joyce complains to Rachel, a hand cocked against her hip. “Just who raised that girl?”

“A kickass lady who did a way better job then that,” Rachel plays along and elbows Chloe gently in the ribs.

“Sorry mom,” Chloe says, unable to contain her eye roll at both of them teaming up on her. Again. But she takes a breath and catches her mother’s eye, offering a tentative but earnest smile. “It’s, uh, just really good. Tell Gary he did a bitchin’ job.”

Joyce makes that expression she seems to save just for Chloe, half grimace, half smile and says. “I’ll pass along the compliment, Chloe.”

Rachel’s hand drops back to Chloe’s knee under the table and gives a warm squeeze. Politeness reward.

Chloe expects Joyce to wander back to the counter, but she lingers, crossing her arms in front of her “What brings you girls out here today?”

“What else? Great food and better service,” Rachel says with a beatific smile, looking for all the world like she’s _not_ sliding her fingers up the inseam of Chloe’s jeans under the table.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chloe chokes when Rachel’s palm lands against the crotch of her jeans and grinds down.

“Chloe Elizabeth Price,” Joyce scolds her instantly.

“Sorry,” Chloe grits her teeth. Rachel ducks her head and smothers her laughter in a bite of strawberry pancakes, but only eases the pressure on Chloe’s clit through her jeans incrementally. “These eggs are just really good.”

Joyce narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to speak but Gary, prince among men, hollers for her from the kitchen. She clucks her tongue and turns back toward the counter, “Try to behave yourself, please. Rachel, I expect you to keep an eye on her.”

“Absolutely, Mama J,” Rachel says sweetly. “I won’t let her get out of hand.”

The moment Joyce leaves earshot Chloe’s hand flies under the table, gripping Rachel’s wrist desperately, “What are you doing?”

Rachel breaks into a peel of laughter, and discreetly shakes Chloe’s grip off, not quite stopping her motions, but slipping her fingers back to the inside of Chloe’s thigh instead. “Oh, I thought it was pretty obvious?”

“I mean, why?” Chloe sputters, breath hitching again when Rachel’s fingers trail higher for just a moment before retreating. The denim of her jeans is at once too thick and too thin, a saving barrier and brutal impediment. Her pussy feels hot and swollen, already leaking wetness down her thighs.

"You're fun to touch," Rachel smiles again and leans in, kissing Chloe with lips that taste like strawberries and sugar. “You like sweet things, don’t you Chloe?”

Chloe nods dumbly, gnawing her lip when Rachel’s fingers tease the zipper of her jeans.

“Me too,” Rachel says and takes another dainty bite of her pancakes. She moans around the fork and Chloe feels the sound directly against her clit, can’t quite stop herself from arching up into Rachel’s teasing fingers. Rachel grins, eases the zipper down achingly slow. She spears another bite of pancake, holding it up to Chloe’s lips. “Here, try this.”

Her body’s on autopilot, mouth dropping open helplessly at Rachel’s command. She barely registers Rachel popping the button on her jeans, leaving them gaping open beneath the table.

Chloe’s senses are completely overwhelmed. The buzz of conversation, scored by clacking silverware and the far-off sizzle of the grill competes with the rush of blood through her own ears. Her mouth is flooded with bright, tart sweetness from Rachel’s pancakes, smothering the lingering taste of bitter diner coffee. The air is thick with the smell of fresh fruit and brewing coffee and grease and, closer, Rachel’s light, flowery perfume. Rachel’s face, that stupidly sexy, self-satisfied smirk, those intent eyes lapping up every reaction that flits across Chloe’s face, swarms her vision.

And then there’s Rachel’s fingers sliding against the damp front of Chloe’s boxers, seeking the opening in the front and slipping inside to brush directly against Chloe’s clit. She can't believe she's this wet already, throbbing at the first contact of Rachel's hand, feeling messy and out of control, desperate for more. And god, it’s good. There’s something about the way Rachel bites her lip when she feels Chloe’s wetness, the in-control mask slipping for just a second, smug expression darkened with sincere, unbridled _want_ so intense it makes Chloe gasp, bucking up into her touch.

“Shhh,” Rachel whispers and leans in to drop a quick kiss to Chloe’s parted lips. “Gotta be quiet, yeah?”

Chloe nods, clenching and unclenching her grip on the fork still uselessly gripped in her fist. She stretches her legs out a little, spreads them wider, pushes her toes against the ground for leverage as she raises her hips up into Rachel’s touch and, God, what is she doing—

Rachel laughs again and the sound, the slight humiliation of it, coaxes a fresh wave of wetness between Chloe’s legs.

“Fuck,” Chloe mumbles, biting her lip hard against the whine building in her throat. Rachel’s fingers swirl against her clit, slow, then fast, then slower than before, not settling on a single tempo for her to match. “Rach. C’mon.”

“What?” Rachel asks innocently, taking another bite of her meal. “I knew this would happen. I knew you’d try the pancakes and wish you’d ordered them instead.”

“What?” Chloe nearly hisses when Rachel’s fingers drift lower. The angle, the tight confines of Chloe’s jeans and boxers limit her mobility, but Chloe knows that if they were anywhere else Rachel would be inside her already.

“I knew you’d be begging me for it,” Rachel says lowly, and Chloe’s hips jump up again. “You always want more, don’t you Chloe? Greedy girl.”

There’s another bite of pancake in front of her suddenly and she barely has the sense to open her mouth for it, whipped cream smearing her lips as Rachel guides the fork into Chloe’s mouth.

“Good, huh?” Rachel asks and drags the pad of her thumb directly over Chloe's clit.

Chloe moans, chewing fast, distractedly.

“Say thank you,” Rachel tells her, rubbing harder, faster. “Isn’t it nice of me to share with you, Chloe?”

“Thank you,” Chloe echoes dumbly, breath quickening as tension begins to pool in her body, the crackly, warm sensation of her oncoming orgasm building with every brush of Rachel’s fingers.

“You’re welcome,” Rachel says. Then, simply, “Come now.”

There’s something about the simplicity of the command, so dirty and direct, so at odds with the coy innuendo Rachel had cleaved to so diligently until now that leaves Chloe undone. She hadn’t known that she’d been waiting for permission, but it’s only a few seconds after Rachel grants it that the orgasm that’s been inching towards her for the past several minutes suddenly slams through her like a brick through a window. It’s short, sharp, almost percussive, has her curling her toes inside her boots, breath catching in her throat, hips twitching up against Rachel’s fingers.

Almost before she knows what’s happening, Rachel’s hand is out of her jeans, creeping up her shirt to wipe herself off. She drags her hand down carelessly across Chloe’s abs, smearing Chloe’s belly with her own come, and then withdraws her hand from under the table.

“Something wrong, girls?” Joyce’s voice cuts through the hazy din of the diner and _oh God_ — “You’ve hardly touched your eggs.”

“Uh,” Chloe says, intelligently.

“Everything’s delicious,” Rachel cuts in smoothly, smiling winningly up at Joyce. “Chloe’s been stealing bites off me. You know her sweet tooth.”

Joyce hums knowingly and cocks her head at Chloe, who can feel even more keenly than before just how soaked her boxers are. She snaps her legs shut under the table and sits up stiffly. “You okay, Chloe?”

“Yeah, you look a little flushed,” Rachel says and raises a hand — _that_ hand, still just barely damp — to press against Chloe’s forehead. Chloe jerks in place and coughs into her arm, just to escape Rachel’s grasp.

“Uh, yeah, uh, fine,” Chloe says. “I just, um. Used too much hot sauce.”

Joyce frowns, glancing down at Chloe’s plate, and shakes her head. “Right,” she says and reaches across the table to snatch Chloe’s half-empty coffee cup away. “Enough of this for you, girl. Rachel, hon, you need anything else?”

“I’m all good, Mama J,” Rachel says. “Just the check, please? Chloe’s treating.”

“How nice of her,” Joyce says, sounding genuinely pleased this time.

“Very,” Rachel agrees to Joyce’s retreating back. She grins devilishly when Chloe reaches under the table with two shaking hands to rezip the front of her jeans.

“Sadist,” Chloe mutters, propping her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands, trying not to think too hard about just who in the diner might have been able to tell what they were doing.

“Hardly,” Rachel scoffs breezily. “But, if that’s what you’re into—”

“No,” Chloe chokes, because with Rachel she clearly can’t quite count on whatever she says next to be a _joke_.

“Are you sure? Because to hear you tell it, you’re a bit of a masochist with the Cholulua,” Rachel nods to Chloe’s very plain eggs.

“Oh, fuck,” Chloe groans again. “God, you don’t think she—?”

“Relax, she probably just thinks you’re stoned.”

“Oh, fucking cool, that’s _way_ better, Rach.”

“I mean, to her credit, half the time when we come in here you _are_ stoned,” Rachel says, leaning in to kiss Chloe’s ear. “Hey.”

And the fact is, even though this part is kind of mortifying, that was still, confusingly, one of the hottest things Chloe’s ever done. And Rachel is, infuriatingly, the most beautiful person Chloe’s ever known —- and now, also, the only person that’s ever made her come in her pants in a very public diner.

So Chloe swallows her pride, the little bubble of anxiety fizzling in her tummy, and smiles back and echoes, “Hey.”

“So, breakfast was really good,” Rachel says and leans in to kiss Chloe again, on the corner of the mouth. She flicks her tongue out to taste the left over sweetness of whipped cream on Chloe’s lips. “But…”

“But?”

“I’m still a little hungry,” Rachel leans back, and that sweet smile has morphed into a full on leer, one that sends shivers down Chloe’s back, has her wet all over again. “How about we go back to my room for dessert?”

Chloe nearly sends them both sprawling trying to rush them out of the booth, which definitely annoys Joyce as she approaches with the check, but it’s worth it to hear Rachel laugh like that.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://explosionshark.tumblr.com) for more prompt fills


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